


Cyclogenesis

by badideasbear (aquiclude)



Category: The Yogscast
Genre: (of negligible quantity but putting it in there all the same), Blood, Demigods, Gift Giving, Magic, Overworking, Sexual Tension, Weather Magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-06
Updated: 2014-09-06
Packaged: 2018-02-16 09:43:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2264958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aquiclude/pseuds/badideasbear
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Kirin throws his storm magic around a little too liberally, and Will Strife is a tough person to give a gift to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cyclogenesis

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by donotchoosesidesyet's yogfics [here](http://donotchoosesidesyet.tumblr.com/post/96147189915/kd-dropping-in-on-people-around-the-server-at) and [here](http://donotchoosesidesyet.tumblr.com/post/96313921480/fic-storm-approaching), ceranovis's [wonderful art](http://ceranovis.tumblr.com/post/96145090370/oh-william-has-alex-been-playing-rough-with), and that one video where Will rants about sinus headaches.

The gathering clouds above the business park are a warning. Will sets aside his wrench with a sigh. Out of the window, the morning light is dimmed against the oppressive mass of clouds. This is Kirin's idiosyncratic version of politeness: a vanguard sent ahead to announce his arrival. Will puts his head in his hands, his cool fingers offering a measure of relief to his growing headache. He can _feel_ the pressure dropping, pounding on the inside of his skull. 

Damn it, but he's really not in the mood for a game of hide and seek with a demigod today.

Will is sure Kirin is somewhere on his compound already. The god of this world is nosy but at least he is honest about it. Even though Kirin is in a strange sort of way almost the most trustworthy person on this world, Will would still rather not have him poking about his private workshops.

Will grits his teeth and sets out to clear his base, floor by floor, building by building. He tries to ignore the pain in his head.

When he finally locates the demigod, it's not quite in the last place he looks. It is, however, the place he'd really hoped Kirin wasn't. Will stands outside the door of his design workroom. It’s the place he's most at home, and he knows without opening the door that Kirin is there. He takes a deep breath smelling the faint scent of ozone in the air and steps inside.

Will swallows hard. Kirin is sitting propped up casually on an elbow at the main table, studying Will's scale model of his own compound. He looks with interest at Will's newest concept models for potential additions to his site. The part that gives Will pause though is that with his other hand, Kirin is idly swirling his index finger in miniaturised clouds, flicking a tiny weather system around Will's model base.

"Ahem," Will begins when the storm sage fails to acknowledge his presence. At that, Kirin looks up at him, that familiar warm smile on his face. He doesn't look remotely embarrassed to be caught in Will's private design room, but then he's never had any qualms about going anywhere he pleases before, so Will really shouldn't be surprised. Affronted all the same, but not surprised.

"Oh, good morning William!" he says brightly. But then he frowns, concern overtaking his features. Great. Will feels pretty terrible right now, head pounding, and disheveled from this ridiculous wild god chase, but it's a real ego boost to know that he apparently looks a mess too. Plus there's always something faintly unnerving about talking to Kirin. Will can never escape the feeling that Kirin is translating himself down into something mortals can understand. He's never sure whether or not he wants to experience the untranslated Kirin.

"Ah," Kirin says at last, as if he has solved a puzzle. He stands up. To Will's dismay, the sense of power in the room suddenly thickens. Thankfully it fades just as quickly as it had arrived, and along with it, the pressure in Will's head lifts. Will absolutely does not make any sort of noise of grateful relief whatsoever. The low rumbles of thunder from outside are gone now, the real storm dissipating, though the little cloudscape hovering above the model remains.

"I'm sorry about that. I'll have to considered a better way of announcing my arrival in future." Kirin looks genuinely regretful.

"You could try using the doorbell like a normal visitor," Will replies sharply. "And maybe work on the whole concept of privacy," he grumbles under his breath. 

"But I'm not a normal visitor, am I? It's good to keep that at the forefront of mortal minds."

"As if I was in any danger of forgetting," Will replies bitterly. He looks pointedly at Kirin's left hand where he's idly toying with his micro-weather system spell. It's so complex, so elegant and so ostentatiously magical that it hurts – like Kirin is pushing a fine needle into him or perhaps tugging at a thread within Will. Every time it feels like Kirin is threatening to unravel him.

Will looks away, swallowing down the feeling of something old and deep and scared stirring inside him. Kirin steps around from behind the table, coming nearer. Will feels a tingle as the hair on his forearms responds to the static charge in the air. He shivers. It's disconcerting to be around someone who exudes power so effortlessly. The man – if he can still even be called a man – pulls at the world around him solely with the presence of his power, like a weight in the centre of a blanket.

"I admire the ambition in your designs, William. I'm truly fascinated to see what you'll do next." Kirin smiles. "In the interests of making your life a little easier, I want to give you a gift."

Kirin roots around in his robe pockets until he's holding a handful of gold, iron and an obsidian shard. Will eyes the tree-like pale blue traceries on Kirin's hands warily. "Just a small token, you understand. I know how keen you are on your independence."

Will bristles at Kirin's words. "I don't need anything from you. You can keep your magic to yourself, I don't want any part of it."

The objects in Kirin's hands rise into the air even as Will protests. Will takes a step back and before he knows it he's backed up against the wall of the small room. Magic shivers blue-white in the air; the metal and stone flow molten, forming into a thin gold chain and pendant shaped by Kirin's will.

Kirin approaches Will slowly as if he is a wild animal that will startle and bolt. To be honest, bolting had crossed Will's mind. He holds up a hand and Kirin stops. "If you think I'm taking a piece of cursed jewellery from you, the magic really has addled your brain. This is absurd!" Will tries to laugh but it sounds shaky in his own ears.

"It's an amulet of protection, nothing more," Kirin says gently.

"I don't need your protection!" spits Will.

Kirin looks down and smiles, like Will is some kind of private little joke to the demigod. It grates on Will’s raw nerves even more. Damn it, he knows he's starting to shake too, adrenaline bitter in his mouth. Will curls his hands into fists to hide it. He wishes he'd brought his disassembler with him. If only to make himself feel better.

"Let me explain this amulet to you, William," Kirin begins. "I want you to consider it an apology for giving you that terrible headache. Now, I'm no medic, but I do have a way with the weather, and this little charm will protect you from it. How do no more pressure headaches sound?"

It's not quite what Will expected and he feels almost touched by the consideration before his better judgment kicks in. "How about no? I'm not going to wear something magical _on my person_ when I have no idea what it could really do."

Kirin's lip quirks. "I suppose you could read up on it. I can lend you some books on meteormancy if you like?"

Will glares. "I'm not studying black magic for you."

"Elemental magic – and the elements themselves for that matter – aren't by nature good or evil, much like technology. It's a matter of how you use it." Kirin's voice is measured and patient, no signs of irritation that Will can detect.

Will grunts noncommittally and folds him arms. "Why don't you give it to one your more willing test subjects?"

Over the course of the conversation, Kirin had moved close enough to touch. The prickle of his presence on Will’s skin is still there but it seems less strange. Will wonders if Kirin is toning down his aura on purpose or whether Will has just gotten used to it.

"No, this was made for you," Kirin says. "I wouldn't dream of passing it on to someone I have less regard for."

Will’s cheeks warm. He's aware very vividly of Kirin's height, his pale blue eyes and the matching blue lines spidering lightning beneath his smooth skin. Even if he wasn't good-looking, his charisma would be enough to draw Will's attention at such close quarters.

"Though I do see your point about not being able to trust my magic yet," Kirin continues, face thoughtful. He brightens. "Your knowledge of blood magic is quite impressive though. Would you accept a blood oath on the amulet's purpose?"

Will's breath catches. He shuts his eyes because he just needs a moment here. It's completely beyond him that Kirin can talk about magic as potent and potentially lethal as a blood oath like it's nothing. Kirin's a god. Of course things are different for them, but this is hard for Will to take.

Kirin gives him time to consider it but Will can't find any response. He feels days of exhaustion catching up to him. He supposes passing out on a guest would probably be bad manners though, and tremendously unprofessional.

"You don't need to watch if you don’t want to, but we may be missing the point of this trust exercise if you don't," Kirin murmurs, squeezing Will's arm gently. Will had expected a god's touch to hurt. It's just warm though.

He lets Kirin guide him with steadying hands to sit down. Will look up at him at last.

Kirin holds the amulet in one hand, a slim ritual knife in the other. Kirin isn't flashy about it, not like Parv would have been, but he uses the formal words Will still remembers distantly.

"I swear by blood and breath that this amulet affords the wearer protection from storms and ill weather, no more and no less."

Kirin cuts his finger. Will can't tell what colour the demigod's blood is except that it is dark. The obsidian stone in the amulet absorbs the drops hungrily. Kirin brings the pendant up to his lips and blows on the stone, binding it with his oath to his blood and the air in his lungs.

Kirin meets Will's eyes and smiles. "Are you satisfied, William? Will you accept my gift? I won't force it on you if you still have doubts."

His good sense is crying out to him to say no. Will doesn't want to be involved in any more magic. He doesn't want to encourage a god to keep walking into his life. Truly.

When Will looks back on this moment later, he'll try and come up with excuses for his lamentable lack of caution. He hadn't slept the night before. The search and the headache had tired him out. Breakfast was maybe something he ought to have considered. He _really_ isn't used to talking to gods, especially ones who inexplicably announce that they hold him in high regard.

"I accept. Thank you," Will says, rising from his seat. The air is still and charged, an elemental intake of breath before the thunder clap.

"May I?" Kirin asks, holding out the chain. Will nods slowly and Kirin draws closer, bringing the chain over Will's head. Fingers brush against Will hair and Will shuts his eyes, feeling like static is working its way under his skin, fizzing in his bloodstream. Kirin is close, so close Will could lean against him if he had the courage.

Thunder rolls. Rain beats heavily against the windows. And Will feels absolutely fine. "It works," Will murmurs in wonder in the vague direction of Kirin's shoulder.

"Mmm," agrees Kirin. Gentle fingers tips Will's chin up and he looks into deep blue eyes that seem to be looking at all Will Strife has ever been and everything he might be, terrifying and kind. Kirin smiles and brushes his lips against Will's cheek. There's no pain. No electricity. Just warmth and an affection William has never known how to respond to.

"Get some rest, William," Kirin tells him before Will's racing thoughts can curdle into awkward action. He steps back.

There's a swirl of golden runes and Kirin fades away into nothingness but the fondness in his smile lingers, Cheshire-catlike. Will sits down hard. Can that really just have occurred? Kirin has left a storm raging in his wake outside, but the heavy beat of the rain is soothing rather than threatening.

The pendant is warm still, bearing the heat of Kirin's exhalation and his warm hands. Will traces his finger over the large obsidian piece and almost laughs out loud. From deep within the dark stone, sparks of pale blue flash up to meet his touch.

"Blood and breath," Will murmurs to himself in weary wonder.


End file.
